


The Land of Sweet Dreams

by Jaeger Gipsy Danger (Carleen)



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Original Character(s), ksadvent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 20:01:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5388413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carleen/pseuds/Jaeger%20Gipsy%20Danger





	The Land of Sweet Dreams

**Title: The Land of Sweet Dreams**

**Author: Jaeger Gipsy Danger**

**Beta: Robert**

**Series: TOS**

**Rating: M**

**Length: 3076 Words**

**Warnings: None**

**Summary: Poor Kirk has picked up a bad cold from his nephew. Bones knocks him out with some powerful meds that give him strange dreams. In one of them, he plays Clara to Spock's nutcracker.**

** 2015 K/S Advent Celebration **

**PROMPT: Poor Kirk has picked up a bad cold from his nephew. Bones knocks him out with some powerful meds that give him strange dreams. In one of them, he plays Clara to Spock's nutcracker.**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Since the dream sequence will be long, I don't want to give all of you a headache, by making you read it in italics. Instead of italics, the sequence will begin and end with this ~*~o0o~*~**

* * *

 

_Once upon a time, the magic of Christmas descends on a starship named Enterprise._

2300...2400...0100...0200 hours click past and the captain is still tossing, turning and beginning to believe he will never sleep again. Just as he believes this head cold, so generously shared with him by his nephew, will never go away. So much for 23-Century medicine. He's dying, on this narrow bed, in his lonely quarters and no one cares. And what is that music? The same melody over and over again. His headache began to throb in time with the repetitive beat. Who the hell gave the order for a party? It's not his birthday. No, it's Christmas The holidays. He groaned and slapped his comlink open.

The same noise echoed from the speaker in Sickbay.

"Bones."

Doctor McCoy responded to the captain's growl with his usual good cheer helped along by several glasses of brandy-spiked eggnog. "What can I do for you, Jim? You should be sleeping. S'only way you'll get over that cold."

"I'm trying, Doctor. The entire ship is one big party I can't sleep through the noise or the fact that my head is about to explode."

"Alright. Alright. I'm on my way, Jim. You jus'hold on." Kirk's temper short-circuited when he heard McCoy turn away from the speaker to talk to a female. "First…l'l lady, you'll have to move off my lap. Now, now, don't pout there's plenty of ol'Doc McCoy to go around. I'll be right back."

"Bones."

He found the captain curled on his bunk soaked in cold sweat and burning with fever. "Damn boy, you are sick. Now lemme think who's the only other person on this ship who isn't drunk." Bone's snapped his fingers. "Spock, of course!"

The Doctor rounded on the Vulcan when he walked in the door. Spock gracefully sidestepped the doctor to avoid the wave of alcohol on the man's breath and headed straight for the captain.

"Now don't get all uppity with me you pointy eared… What was I gonna say? Oh yes, I need you to stay here with Jim and keep a watch on him. I gave him something good an'strong. So you jus keep an eye on him cause he's sick."

"How perceptive of you, Doctor. Your diagnostic skills never fail to impress."

McCoy waved away the usual sardonic tone, raised a matching eyebrow and headed out of Kirk's quarters. "I got a pretty li'l ensign waiting for me, an I ain't 'bout to let you spoil my mood."

When the door finally closed, Spock dismissed the doctor from his thoughts and turned his attention to the man on the bed. The room smelled of sweat and sickness.

"Captain?"

"Hmmm."

"It's Spock. Why aren't you being cared for? Where is your Yeoman?"

"Kicked 'em out. You get out too. Leave me here to die."

"No, Captain. That will not be possible. First, you will bathe while I change your bedding. Then you will try some soup."

"Jus' who d'you think you are?"

Spock caught him under the arms and lifted him to a sitting position. "I am your friend, and you need my help."

"I demand…! Arggghhh."

Spock managed to get an empty bowl under the captain's chin before he vomited.

"Sorry…"

"Vomiting is typically followed by a short period of improvement. Now is the time for that shower."

Pulling Kirk unceremoniously to his feet caused him to fall against the Vulcan.

"Wait. Let me stand here for just a second. The goddamn room is spinning."

Spock steadied himself to allow the human to lean against him and smiled into the darkness. "Jim, if you wish I shall admit to your handsome virility. However, now is not the time. Frankly, Captain, you stink."

"Vulcan humor. Spare me. But I'm gonna remember you said that." Kirk mumbled and made his way to the bathroom.

Spock watched him enter the bathroom, speculating the odds on which part of what he just said Kirk would remember. While he was gone, Spock stripped and remade it with clean linen. Then he ordered a mug of clear broth from the replicator and quickly tidied the room.

Kirk reappeared in the doorway with a towel over his head and another wrapped around his waist.

"What is that goddamn tune I keep hearing?"

Spock took his arm and helped him back to the bed. Removing the towels with a snap over Jim's protests and tucked the naked captain back under the covers.

"Geesh, give a guy some privacy."

"There is little that we do not know about each other, Captain. I have seen you undressed many times. Therefore, your concern is illogical."

"Being naked has nothing to do with being logical," Kirk said, tucking the blanket around his waist.

"I concede the point, Jim. The soup please?"

Kirk managed to keep down a few mouthfuls of broth until he'd had enough. "Unless you intend to watch me puke again, that's enough."

Spock helped him lay back down covered him again. "To answer your question. I believe it's one of your Russian composers Tchaikovsky and his composition entitled, The Nutcracker Suite," Spock commented while gathering the mug and napkin.

"There's a story about that, right? A story that goes with the music… dancing… a b… a ballet?"

"I believe that is correct, Captain. However, I do not know the story."

"Whaa? Your Mom, never took you to see the Nutcracker ballet on the hol-holidays? Or The Messiah?" Always like that one, too. Next time… we'll go. My treat."

To Spock's surprise the captain began to sing, "'Unto us a child is given. Unto us a chil'is born an'his name shall be calleth…'"

"Jim, you need to rest. You are slurring your words." Spock said, smoothing an extra blanket over Jim's chest.

"Yeah, the medication is making me a little drunk. I'll sound like Bones in a minute… Anyway, there's a little girl… No wait, a little boy. Maybe it's a girl. Anyway, is'a good story." Jim slipped his hand into Spock's lacing their fingers together. "Thanksss for stay'n with me."

Spock slipped off his boots and tunic. Shoved logic and should-nots aside and sat down next to Jim with his back against the bulkhead, so the captain's head rested on this thigh. With one hand still clasped with Jim's the Vulcan allowed his other to rest alongside Kirk's jawline.

"Tell me the story, Jim."

~*~o0o~*~

It's Christmas Eve, and I am not happy. Stamping my foot in frustration, so my golden-blond curls shake prettily; a fact I'm certainly aware of. I dismissed the beautiful tree decorated with ribbons, wreaths, and candles. I looked instead to count the presents under the tree, but there were none to count. I was also hungry, but we weren't allowed to touch the food. Our nurse had allowed us only a small taste of bread and jam so that we wouldn't ruin our appetites, but that had been hours ago. The governess warned us to behave so we were too scared to complain, cry or move.

Once all the children and guests had gathered in the parlor my father signaled the small orchestra to begin playing a march and the doors flung open. The servants marched in with their arms laden with presents. Finally! I can hardly wait to tear open the paper. The younger children are delighted with their presents, but since I'm older, I'm disappointed with the childish toys. I'm trying very hard to be mature about it. Then the owl-topped grandmother clock struck eight o'clock. Now, of course, they will send us to bed. This is the worst Christmas ever. It's all I can do not to cry.

The front door opened suddenly, causing the guests to gasp. But I am not afraid. Amidst a swirl of snow and wind, a mysterious figure emerged wrapped from head to foot in black.

With my hunger and disappointment forgotten, I watched the stranger's graceful entrance. This is more interesting than the tree or the presents. Who can this be?

I watched the servants help him remove his outer garments. My excitement grew as his dark hooded eyes searched the room. Although I almost expected it when his eyes reach mine, I took a step backward. It is only Mister Drosselmeyer, my godfather and local councilman. I clapped my hands with anticipation because he is also a talented toymaker and a bit of a magician.

With his eyes on me waved his hands and in a puff of smoke, he displayed the gifts he brought for all of us. There on the floor where there had been nothing before was a pile of beautifully wrapped gifts. He waved his hands again and suddenly revealed four life-size dolls. At his command they began to move and dance. Everyone clapped and smiled. They were beautiful and delighted us all.

Watching the dolls whirling around the room. I wanted to pick one up and dance too! Then just at the climax of the music, he swept them away. My brother Sam and I were sad to see the dolls taken away, but Drosselmeyer had another surprise for us. From somewhere under his cape he produced a wooden nutcracker carved in the shape of a man. It's in the form of a man, yes, but not any man I have ever seen. The hair and eyes are dark, the ears slightly pointed and he's dressed in all black. I know what a nutcracker is, although our parents won't let us touch one in case we injure ourselves. Of course, we've both tried to use one and smashed our thumbs in the process!

This one is different and puzzling, and although the other children ignore it, I immediately take a liking to it. It's mysterious and beautiful, and I want to hold it in my arms, but my brother Sam is jealous and tears it from my arms. I chased him around the room until he finally threw it down on the parquet floor and broke it. I tried to hit him, but our parents summoned the nurse, and we are all sent to bed with just a tray of food.

I want to cry! I'm too old to cry, but my heart is broken.

During the night, after everyone else has gone to bed, I slipped out of bed and tiptoed past Sam's bed. The parlor was dark and silent, but I wasn't afraid, and I ran across the room to the little bed where my Godfather set the Nutcracker. Just then the clock chimed midnight. The sound startled me, and I jumped back to see Drosselmeyer perched atop the clock.

He's grinning down at me when suddenly, mice appeared scampering in all directions until they filled the room. Next, the Christmas tree seemed to grow and grow until I could no longer see the top. The dizzying heights, the candles flaring and the garland streaming from the tree held me in a trance. The Nutcracker is by my side as he grows to life-size, casting off his drab Nutcracker clothes to reveal a handsome, dashing man dressed like a prince. How handsome he is, dressed all in black and silver. His doublet and hose show off his fine figure.

Before I can drag my eyes away from the Prince, Drosselmeyer and I find ourselves in the midst of a battle between an army of gingerbread soldiers and the mice, led by their King. They began to eat the soldiers! I'm a little scared when the Prince leaves my side to lead the soldiers against the mice. Soon they are joined by the tin soldiers and the dolls who serve as doctors to carry away the wounded. I almost cried out when the Mouse King injured the Prince with a blow of his sword. I had to do something!

As the Mouse King advanced on the still-wounded Prince, I threw my slipper at him, distracting him long enough for the Prince to stab him. He smiled his thanks and swept me up in his arms as we watched the mice retreat. When the battle was over, and everything quiet, he set me down and took my hand. Before I could blink, he led me through the window into the moonlit night inside a pine forest.

The night is full of magic and power.

The Prince and I are swept away and travel through the snowy night to a place he explained are called The Land of Sweets. Until he returned, the Sugar Plum Fairy ruled in his place. When I take his hand, I realize we are the same height now, and I am no longer a young boy, but a man full grown and no longer afraid. The snowflakes dance around the trees, beckoning us to his kingdom. I'm so happy the Prince survived the battle, and he can return home.

The Sugar Plum Fairy meets us and takes us to a beautiful white and gold castle. She is beautiful and attentive while she serves us cake and hot cocoa. While we eat the Prince recounted for her how he had been saved from the Mouse King by me and transformed from a Nutcracker back into himself.

To my surprise, the Sugar Plum Fairy and the Prince hold a celebration in my honor. They call me a hero. None of this would have been possible without the Prince at my side. The Sugar Plum Fairy waves my protest away and orders the celebration to begin. A celebration of sweets from around the world appears and dances for our entertainment. Chocolate from Spain, Coffee from Arabia, and tea from China all dance for our amusement. Candy canes from Russia and Danish shepherdesses perform on their flutes.

Mother Ginger has her children, the Polichinelles, emerge from under her enormous hoop skirt to dance. A string of beautiful flowers performed a waltz. Throughout the performance my Prince held tight to my hand. To conclude the night, the Sugar Plum Fairy and my Prince performed a dance together.

A stab of jealousy took me by surprise, but I see he is merely polite. When it is over, my Prince takes me by the hand again and leads me to the dance floor. The candlelight glances off the polished floor are highlighting our movements. I don't question how it can be that I'm now the same height as my prince and a man full grown. It's wonderful when he took me in his arms, and we moved to the strains of a melodic and beautiful waltz.

As we spin, all artifice falls away. I'm no longer a child with golden curls. My white and gold velvet doublet and hose show off my legs and broad shoulders. My Prince, mysterious in his black cape, is handsomely familiar, and I welcome his embrace. He danced me pass the mirrors, and I see us moving so perfectly together. Light and dark. Mystery and fairy tale. Fantasy and logic.

"I love you," I say to his reflection in the glass.

He turned my face from the mirror and murmured against my cheek, "I know."

A final waltz is performed by all the sweets, after which the Sugar Plum Fairy ushered The Prince and I down from our throne. He bowed to her, she kissed me goodbye and lead us to a reindeer-drawn sleigh. It takes off as we wave goodbye to the Sugar Plum Fairy and her happy subjects. I watched with delight as they run after the sleigh waving and laughing.

When we're alone, my Prince covered us with a thick blanket and gathered me in his arms. Perhaps this is what I've been waiting for all night. The unspoken promises from our dance reveal themselves when my head lands comfortably on his shoulder, and his arms surround me.

"Thank you for watching over me."

"It's what I do."

"I know, and that is one of the reasons I love you. You are my Prince, my protector, and my friend."

"You are no longer a child, James."

"I know," I whispered, knowing that it is true. The Prince's lips take mine possessively, yet his kiss is gentle, almost hesitant. As the night moves the stars over us and the sleigh courses through the night, we sink into each other's arms. His touch both calms and excites me, but I trust him. I trust him with my life, just as I always have and the night is ours!

~*~o0o~*~

Kirk wakes, the fever, is gone, and he's alone. He remembers the dream and Spock. After he showers and shaves, he goes in search of his first officer. The captain doesn't have to look far when he finds the Vulcan meditating. Kirk kneels down in front of him and touches the beloved face.

"I remember the dream. If the things you learned in the dream upset you, then I am sorry. I would do nothing to disrupt our friendship. Nothing to hurt you."

"You have not hurt me, Jim. You couldn't. I simply do not know how to assimilate the emotional impact of last night's experience or what I learned from the encounter." The Vulcan gazed up at Jim, "Despite the fact that I initiated the personal contact."

"And I'm glad you did. So now you know how I feel about you and what you mean to me."

"Yes." Spock leaned against the hand touching his face. "I have always known. You see me with only your five senses. When you touch me your love for flares within reminding me that I am a Vulcan. But also a human with emotions and love to share."

"May I help you assimilate that information, First Officer?"

It took only a slight nod from the Vulcan for Jim to move closer. Jim kissed the frown lines from the Vulcan's face and ended with his lips pressed against Spock's mouth.

"Merry Christmas, my…"

Spock pulled away and stopped Jim from speaking with a finger over his lips, "Jim, under no circumstances will you refer to me as your Prince."

"Aye, sir." Kirk replied with a grin and with both hands, held the Vulcan's head still so he could continue the kiss.

Spock squeezed his shoulders. "Not even when we lay naked together."

"You...? We...?"

"Is that not the next logical step?"

Jim laughed and let himself fall against the Vulcan. The kiss a prelude to what lay beyond and Kirk promised himself he would take his time and open this present with great care.


End file.
